


Under The Two Moons

by starsong946



Series: Under The Two Moons [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Canon Non-Binary Character, F/F, F/M, Gay Male Character, Genderfluid Character, Genderqueer Character, Lesbian Character, M/M, Magic, Other, Urban Fantasy, Vampires, Were-Creatures, Werewolves, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-27 22:23:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15034583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsong946/pseuds/starsong946
Summary: When Zanna Rosenwald turns 18 she begins to discover more about her past and self, which leads her to a town called Coldbridge, a town where non-humans walk the streets. She learns more about herself, her magic, and the other occupants of the town as she learns the secrets that should have stayed buried.





	1. Prologue

Prologue  
Growing up by herself was all Zanna had known. Deafening silences of empty homes, miles of cracked pavement that all blended together, sallow pale skin reflected in every mirror, all seen through dull watery blue eyes. She knew that there was a time, albeit long ago where her father wasn’t the cold shell he had always been to her. She had seen the pictures from before she was born of her mother and him together, faces both filled with so much life and love that it was hard to reconcile the man in the picture with the man who locked himself in his bedroom in whatever old rundown apartment they were living in this month.

She was aware that the childhood she had would have some mental ramifications but it never occurred to her to be worried when the cold nauseous feeling that sat in her chest started to slowly numb until the angry pain she had retained throughout most of her youth settled into a dull hollow feeling. Part of Zanna couldn’t blame her father for his actions, he had lost the love of his life on the same day he gained a daughter, that couldn’t have been easy for him. But a much more logical side of her brain screamed at her that it shouldn’t affect how he raised her.

All of these overwhelming feelings and emotions and thoughts were contained to beat against the inside of her skull while she went through the motions of her daily life, feeling as if she had a tsunami contained in her head. So on the day of her 18th birthday when she noticed a strong twisting feeling in her chest she pushed it off as a bad day to be trapped in her head and went through the motions of getting ready for her average summer day. It wasn’t until she was walking to the nearby park that she noticed anything amiss.

Kingston’s Park was a park in name only. In reality it was a small chunk of land covered in cracked pavement the color of cigarette ash and littered with debris. The left corner was disturbed by a power line post covered in half torn flyers and staples. The only two pieces of equipment where an old wooden bench and a dull metal basketball hoop without a net. Currently crows covered almost every surface they could perch on and as she approached, more hesitantly, they all swiveled their heads to stare at her with their dark eyes. They followed her movements as she made her way towards to the bench.

As she sat on the uncomfortable old bench she tried to ignore the birds around her who were still staring at her from their perches, silent. She shifted uncomfortably as she pulled out the book she was reading and tried to focus on the words. She flinched minutely as one of the birds who were perched on the chain link fence that surrounded the park flapped it wings lightly as it made its way to the ground and over to sit several feet in front of her.

Zanna ignored the crow in front of her and narrowed her vision down to the book she had pulled in close to her face. She heard the sound of wings as another crow moved to join the one in front of her quickly followed by another. She counted them off in her head as more and more crows settled in to stare at her. When ten of them had moved in front of her all the noise around her stopped, the sudden dead silence causing a ringing in her ears.

She slowly moved the book down from her eyes to stare at the crows who wear all gazing at her with an expecting look in their eyes. She wondered if they expected her to feed them but shook that thought away, no one who came here fed birds. After a few moments of locked gazes the crows that weren’t in front of her began to take to the air one by one until the ten in front of her were the only ones left. Several moments passed before the remaining crows all hobbled off one by one to take to the air, the last one being the first one that had settled in front of her. For a moment before the last crow took off Zanna thought there was a spark of something in the dark black eyes.

For a full minute she sat there, processing the experience she just had before deciding to process it as an odd occurrence in nature. She reached out with hands that shook slightly to flip back to the page she was at in her book and shifted on the bench to get more comfortable as she lost her self in the paperbound world in her hands.  
Several hours had past when Zanna finally emerged from the trance like state one goes into when they’re absorbed in their reading and as she straighten out her legs that at some point gotten folded under her, she grimaced at the shooting pain of being in such an uncomfortable position for so long.

Zanna stood up and stretched the rest of her body, making a face at the odd popping sounds that came out of it, before making her way back down the route she had walked several hours ago back to her temporary home. Unlike every other apartment in their complex the one Zanna steered towards was completely silent. No noises from pets, no children’s laughter, no television sounds. If it wasn’t for the fact that both her and her father came in and out of the place fairly regularly she was sure that most people in the complex would think that there were no occupants.

She stopped briefly at the door as she pressed her forehead against the hardwood and braced herself for the frigid air she was bound to meet inside. True to her thoughts the atmosphere inside was cold, despite the mild temperature of the room. Surprisingly her father wasn’t locked in his room for once, but sat at the wooden table that passed as dining table, looking at paperwork spread out across the table.

Zanna shut the door behind her and moved over to her bedroom silently, neither of them saying anything. She curled up on the lumpy mattress and curled up to face the wall. She closed her eyes and let herself drift through the memories in her mind. The one that floated to the surface of her brain was the one she could never outrun. When she was younger she had a nightmare, the king of nightmare that woke you up from terror, heart beating wildly and sweating. In her nightmare she was sleeping in her bed, a different bed in a different town, and she heard a scratching at her window. She turned over to look at her window to find herself with locked gaze with a monster made of shadow with blood red eyes. She turned back over, thinking if she ignored it than it would go away, but she heard the monster come in through the window. And she had to make the decision, would she turn to face her monster and try to fight back even if it was certain that she would lose, or should she stay facing the wall and let her last few minutes be in blissful ignorant peace. She had just made the decision to turn back over and face her monster when she heard the most awful noise, like the roar of a lion echoing through a tunnel. And then she woke up, panting and grasping at her mattress. Even now, years later, that dream haunted her. 

She finally managed to fall into a fitful sleep, twitching at every creak and breeze through the apartments old wooden frame. When she awoke the sun had gone down, though how long ago she couldn’t tell. The grumbling of her stomach drew her out of her room and into the main area of the apartment where, thankfully, her father wasn’t. She drifted to the outdated kitchen as silently as she could, not wanting to break the tentative silence that seemed to settle whenever one person was awake when the rest of the world wasn’t. As she waited for the leftovers to reheat in the microwave her eyes were drawn to the old tap on the other section of the counter. She reached out to turn the cold water on and let her hand sit under it for as long as she could, letting the cold water fill in all the cracks in the surface of her being. When she noticed that the microwaves timer was reaching zero she pulled her hand out and turned the water off, not bothering to dry her hand off as she opened the microwave at the last second as to interrupt any sound it might make. She moved to the old second hand couch in the dimly lit section that could be called a living room and sat at she spooned the food into her mouth robotically, barely acknowledging the taste. When she was done she moved back to the kitchen to place the bowl in the sink and go back to her room but her gaze was drawn to the tap and she found herself unable to look away. 

Hesitantly she reached out with pale fingers that trembled and let the cold water spring free before letting both hands lay under the flow. She cupped her hands together and let the water fill them and overflow over her fingers. The tugging in her chest that had been absent for most of the night awoke as she gazed, mesmerized by the feeling of water in her hands. She tilted her head as her eyes dropped with a sudden hit of exhaustion. It took a moment for her tired eyes to process the scene in front of her when she finally managed to pry both of her eyes all the way open. 

The water in her hands was slowly frosting over from where her hands where cupped inward. As she watched the frost grew more solid and hardened into a solid chunk of glossy ice cupped in her hands, still under the flow of the water.

Her eyes grew wide in shock and she ripped her hands apart letting the chunk of ice fall into the sink with a loud thunking sound. She backed away from the sink slowly and retreated to her room, unable to process what she had just seen herself do. That night she fell asleep staring at her own hands, as if making sure they weren’t causing anything to happen in her sleep.  
……………………………………………………………………………………………………....

The next several days would prove to be no weirder, and as much as Zanna wanted to live in denial that there was anything odd going on around her it was hard to deny the strange occurrences. On Wednesday the books at the library started to tumble off the shelves as she walked past them, as if her foul mood was literally shifting their centers of balance. On Thursday she found herself followed home by every pet in the neighborhood, many of them breaking away from their owners just to make sure she got home okay. On Friday she returned to the park, hoping she didn’t find it covered in crows again, only to find that several trees and flowers had pushed through the cracks in the cement and gone into full bloom. By Saturday she more than tired with the oddities that had been going on every time she left the apartment and had resigned herself to just staying in the apartment all day, even if mean tolerating her fathers frozen attitude.

She grabbed one of the books she had grabbed from the library and settled into the pea soup colored couch before curling up in the corner as her father’s pointed silence rang through the air. On a normal day it would vex her to be so noticeably ignored like this and at the most she’d slam a door or retreat to her room to fold into herself. She focused on the words in front of her and managed to read through a few pages before getting lost in her own thoughts again.

He hadn’t spoken to her in days, not even to wish her a happy birthday. How does a parent act like that? She could feel her temper growing and at this point she would usually leave the room as not to lash out but right now she was beyond furious. 

The twisting feeling in her chest that she had felt earlier in the morning got stronger until it felt like a clenched fist around her heart. She rubbed at her collarbone uselessly as her anger grew until the feeling in her exploded. Literally exploded. One moment she saw nothing but black and red behind her eyes and the next the red had flared up on the other side of the couch in a large wave of fire.

For a second she was frozen, mesmerized by the spontaneous combustion next to her, fear not even being in the realm of possibility for her until she heard the familiar sharp bark of her father as he rushed over to beat out the fire with a blanket that had been sitting on the armchair nearby. She continued to stare at the flame as her father began to smother it, for some reason feeling that if she were to reach out and touch it, no harm would come to her.

Soon the fire was out, the only remnants being the arid smell of smoke in the air and the burnt section of the couch. Her father stood a distance away from her, chest heaving as he dropped the blanket he had used. His eyes traveled from the remains of the couch to Zanna back and forth before something resigned settled over his eyes and he let out a deep sigh.

Zanna was startled out of her trance by the scratchy voice that she rarely heard, “We should talk. There are some things you need to know.” He forced out as he moved back towards the table he had been sitting at, bending down to pick up the chair he had been sitting at that had presumably been knocked over in his haste to deal with the fire. He settled into his chair with a groan before looking back at her and letting out a groan as he rubbed at his eyes with his hand and gestured towards the only other empty chair.  
She moved over silently and sat down at the chair, taking note of how much larger he seemed since the chair she sat in was much lower than his since they didn’t match. For a moment neither of them spoken before he let out a sigh.

“You’re mother would have been so much better at this…” he muttered, his word tinged with bitterness. Zanna perked up at the mention of her mother, as she was rarely mention. Her father took a deep breath before beginning his long and unbelievable story.

Somewhere deep in the northeast there’s a small town called Coldbridge. An idealistic town filled with happy people going through their quiet lives. Or at least that’s how it appears on the surface. Anyone who has ever lived there knows the truth. Coldbridge is home to a variety of non-humans who gathered in one town to make home and be safe as a community. Every human who lives in the town knows what their neighbors are and understand that it all must be kept a secret and go through their days surrounded by werewolves, witches, vampires, djinn, sphinx, and other beings straight out of the pages of a mythology textbook. And it’s where her mother and father met and fell in love. Her mother was the last living heir of a formerly powerful witch coven and her father was a human who had grown up in love with her all throughout middle and high school. As the two both had decided to attend the town’s community college they shared a early morning class and before long fell in love.

It was at this point her father’s eyes began to grow misty as he continued. The two had planned to wait for children but were happily surprised to discover she was pregnant and celebrated the news by going to the town’s city hall and getting married. Pregnancy was never easy but in a town like Coldbridge it was considerably more stressful. The town being a safe haven for magical creatures always came with some negative side effects. Angst-ridden teenagers with magic who liked to street race, vampire children who tried to bring hellhounds to school, and so on. But the biggest issue was that since there was so much magical energy residing in the town negative entities were drawn towards the town, and both of them agreed that they wanted to raise their child safely in a human town and that in order to ensure that safety she would bind their babies magic as soon as they were born.

It was at this point that her father stopped and it wasn’t hard to predict what had to be coming next. During her birth there were several complications, especially considering since her mother decided to go without an epidural. When Zanna was finally brought into the world, face red as she screamed, a sudden flash of thunder from the raging storm outside took out the power inside the hospital. The backup generator hadn’t been used in far too long and was to slow to kick in. The machines keeping her mother alive began to fail and even when the power came back on the doctors, human or not, couldn’t keep her alive. Her last action was to bind her child’s powers until the day of her 18th birthday when she could make the decision on whether to use them or not. Her father, shattered by the loss of the woman he had loved for so much of his life, took Zanna as soon as he was cleared to. And then he left town…

“…And I never stopped running. I couldn’t. Not when I knew that if I looked next to me your mother wouldn’t be next to me.” He finished softly before wiping away the lone tear that had fully formed in his eye.”Whatever you decide to do is your choice. At this point I suppose I just don’t have it in me to care or fight you.” He said softly.  
Zanna should have been angry, she really should have, and she should be furious and throwing things while screaming about every instance in her childhood where he wasn’t there for her. But for once she wasn’t angry.

“I don’t forgive you. I was a kid and I- I needed you, I needed my Dad. I’ll probably never forgive you for what you’ve done to me. You didn’t support me and-” She sniffed while wiping at her eye, not daring to look him in the eyes, “I can’t stay here. Not anymore. You broke me and I want to get better, I do, and I can’t do that with you nearby. So… goodbye Dad.” she let out as softly as she could. He nodded stoically and retreated into his room, the sound of his door closing behind him being the only sound in the empty apartment.

Zanna made her way into the room she called hers, although with its blank walls and emptiness it could pass for a guest room. She laid down in her bed and curled to tuck her knees as close to her chest as she could. She ignored to grumble of hunger in her stomach as he thought about all the information she had just had thrown at her. She never felt like she belonged in any of the places they had lived, she was too quiet, too used to being alone that she never made any sort of friends. She knew at some point she would have to push herself outside of her comfort zone and try to branch out but maybe part of the problem was that there was always a piece or two of her that was missing. One was obviously the magic that she could feel humming in her chest, as if making up for the years it had been shackled. But the other might be the one place in the world where she would belong, a place where she could feel at home.

She pulled out her old nicked phone and pulled up the search engine. She typed out Coldbridge and spent several minutes just scrolling through all the information in front of her. She closed her eyes for a second before taking a deep breath and selecting directions to the town. If she drove throughout the night she could be there before the sun rose tomorrow. She pressed the sleep button before dropping the phone next to her as she debated the paths in front of her.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
A dark road illuminated by only the moon was suddenly awash in the yellow lights of an old ’92 Dodge Daytona. The dark blue car pulled to a stop in front of a wooden sign, half hidden by the bending branches of the trees that loomed over the road as if watching those entering the town. The occupant stepped out of the car, boots crunching the dirt gravel mixture on the side of the road as she approached the sign.

Zanna looked up at the faded sign that read “Welcome to Coldbridge” and squinted as she read it, “The home of magic. Huh. That’s ironic.” She muttered. The twisted feeling in her chest settled at the sight into a warm glow that brought a small smile to her face. She had made the right decision in finding her home. The home of magic, indeed.


	2. To Create A Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading

To Create A Home

The sun is just starting to rise in the sky when Zanna’s old car rumbles into the start of the town. From what she had read up on about the town no more than four hundred people lived in the town and it was mostly concentrated within a couple of blocks of the town hall. It seemed odd considering the large amount of woodland that surrounded the town but she figured if you lived in a town with beings straight out of fairy tales it might make you hesitant to enter the woods.

The town itself was very picturesque in an odd northeastern way. Morning mist stuck to everything outside and fogged up the windows of every building that she passed. All the buildings were quaint and made of brick with old fashioned signs and window boxes. She passed by a large a neighborhood comprised of brownstones just off the main street that led to a few large apartment buildings that most likely held the bulk of the town’s residents. Zanna made a note to return a bit later to see about renting an apartment, which brought up another problem. She had been saving up for years in the hopes that when she was finally able to, she’d be able to find her own place in the world. But it wasn’t much and if she was going to be an actual adult with a home and such she would need a job.

Zanna let out an exaggerated breath and shook her head slightly. One thing at a time, she reminded herself. She let herself take in the rest of the town as she cruised through the streets. She was expecting dragons curled around chimneys, werewolves prowling the streets, and witches flying on broomsticks; instead she found herself pleasantly surprised as the town woke up and began its daily business. She noticed a mother with long horns curling out of her head walking her young child who had similar, if much smaller horns peeking out from their hair. A older man leaving a parking garage was smoking a old fashion pipe, something Zanna didn’t think still was used outside of movies, and she watched as the smoke he blew out of it curled itself into the shape of a galloping racehorse that slowly dissipated. 

She pulled into one of the few street parking spots just off of Main Street and decided to grab some food from the diner, Carson’s Diner, across the street. She narrowly avoided being run over by a large truck and pushed open the door hesitantly. The tinkling sound above the door signaled here arrival and an older man with warm tawny skin came out from the back door that she assumed led to the kitchen. He smiled kindly at her and let her know she could sit anywhere and he’d come take her order in a moment, a familiar accent tinting his words. 

She seated herself in the back corner booth and busied herself with looking at the menu, although she didn’t feel very hungry she knew if she didn’t eat she’d get grouchy and regret it. The older man, who introduced himself as Luis Carson, took her order and mentioned it would be a moment, since it was so early there was a bit of prep work to do. She smiled, a bit forced, and let her mind drift as she stared out the window. 

She never knew much about her mother, only getting the very minimum from her father over the years, but looking around at the town it was surprisingly easy to picture the young woman from her picture wandering the streets, looking completely at home. These thoughts tumbled around in her head until she was broken from her reverie by Mr. Carson setting a plate down in front of her, the rising steam and scent awakening her hunger. When he didn’t move away she looked up at him a bit awkwardly to find him staring at her face with a strange look on his face.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, her words cracking a bit out of nerves.

He shook the look of his face with a smile before replying “I’m sorry, it’s just for a second you reminded me of someone…” he trailed off, his smile taking on a bittersweet edge. He cleared his throat before finishing “But that was years ago. You just look so similar to her. Little Leah Rosenwald.”

Zanna felt her eyes widen and begin to mist at the mention of her mother’s name. It had been so long since anyone had said it that for a moment it didn’t register in her mind. Mr. Carson noticed her reaction and his eyes widened a fraction before she replied “She- she was my mom. So I guess it makes sense I look like her,” she said thickly before letting out a half choked laugh.

To her shock Mr. Carson’s face broke into a huge smile. “Well I’ll be damned. Little Zee?” at her hesitant nod the man continued “You may have only been in town a few days but you were the friendliest baby I’ve ever met. Used to kick the hand of anyone who your mom let feel her stomach,” he said with a laugh. Zanna felt a genuine smile tug at the corner of mouth at the friendly older man.

“Are you back in Coldbridge for good or are you just passing through?” he asked, curiously.

Zanna cleared her throat a bit before responding “I’m thinking of settling here for a while but I’ve got to find a place to stay and a job first,” she said while beginning to pick at the fluffy pancakes in front of her.

The tinkling of the front door signaled the arrival of another customer but as Mr. Carson turned away he said “If you have some spare time you should check out the Coldbridge Classics up the street, you’re Mom used to love that place.” Before moving back behind the counter to help the customer who had settled at the diners bar.

Zanna dug into her pancakes and let out a satisfied hum at the warm buttery flavor that melted in her mouth. She finished her breakfast with startling speed and when she looked down to find the plate clear she was more than a little shocked. Usually she didn’t eat very much and very infrequently. 

As she approached the register to pay her bill Mr. Carson gave her a warm smile and a yellow lollipop from a jar next to the register. She smiled back shyly and sucked on the lollipop as she made her way down the street to the three story brown-red building with Coldbridge Classics written in the window. She opened the door and stepped inside, immediately taking in the intoxicating scent of old and new books that permeated the store. She moved to the first shelf that caught her eye and began to browse the books on the highest shelf one by one. Every time a book caught her eye she’d pull it out and read the first page before placing it back and if she liked it then she’d add the name to a running list of books she wanted to read. She had just finished browsing the first shelf when a sudden voice behind her caused her to jump.

“Can I help you find something?” an older woman asked. Zanna took in her appearance and noted that she looked very similar to Mr. Carson, down to the shape of their eyes, perhaps they were related?

Zanna looked at the woman for a second before responding “Uh, no, thank you though. I’m just looking,” she said with a weak smile. 

The woman stare at her with a scrutinizing look on her face before asking, an accent coloring her words, “You look familiar, have you been here before?” 

Zanna paused in her fidgeting before responding, hesitantly, “No but. My mom used to come here a lot apparently. Her name was Leah Rosenwald?”

The woman’s eyes widen and she let out a throaty warm laugh, “I don’t believe it. Zee? You’re the spitting image of your mother. And you managed to find your way back to Coldbridge too,” she laughed while shaking her head “This town always has had a magnetic pull to it. Even though you only spent a few days here it dug its claws into you huh?” She continued without waiting for an answer “My name is Lucinda Cardenas, I’ve owned this store since before your mother was born. She used to come here almost every other day you know? She used to just plant herself in the corner with a book and lose herself for hours. Sometimes she’d stay here long enough that she’d offer to help me close the shop. Such a sweet girl, too sweet for this town. It’s gotten better recently since Maria Perez became the deputy but still. So much old world stigma here.” She let the smile on her face drop slightly before realizing that Zanna was still staring at her. She laughed and waved at the air in front of her lightly with one hand, “Look at me, rambling at you. My brother tells me all the time that I talk too much. So have you found a place to settle here yet?” 

Zanna shook her head slightly, already charmed by the short woman, “No I’ve only been in town for a few hours. I need to find a job first. How long have you been in Coldbridge?” she asked curiously. 

Ms. Cardenas’s eyes rolled slightly upwards to the left, as people who are remembering tend to, before she replied. “Well my mama moved us all here a few months before my quinces so around fifty years right about. The years seem to fly, especially when you’re part of the small group of people in this town that actually age,” she chuckled to herself before turning to face Zanna with a mischievous look in her eyes. “You know, if you’re interested I happen to be looking for someone to run the store for me.” At Zanna’s curious gaze she continued, “My kids and grandkids all live about three hours away, and I’ve found a lovely home near them. I’ll miss my brother but I don’t want my grandkids to grow up without a grandmother like me. So I want for someone to watch over the store for me. I’d still come about once a month or so to check up, do some paperwork, and visit Luis. But you’d run the day to day stuff.”

Zanna didn’t miss that she had already began speaking as if she had accepted the job. She followed obediently as Ms. Cardenas led her over to the front desk and began showing her the register and how to record sales in their books. She paid attention dutifully, asking a few questions about certain buttons on the register. Ms. Cardenas had to step away more than once to help find a few customers find a book or two but soon enough there was a break in the flow enough for Zanna to ask some questions.

“Does it ever get really busy?” she asked, curiously. Most bookstores that weren’t part of a large chain tended to be fairly empty most of the time.

“Oh absolutely!” Ms. Cardenas laughed, “Especially right after school starts and the kids get their book list. Plus we sell used textbooks from the community college for a bit cheaper than the school store, so we get a pretty good amount of customers from that. It helps that the town is small enough that there’s no chain stores or any other competition,” she said with a friendly wink.

“So? What do you think?” she asked gesturing around to the store. Zanna looked around at the warm wooden shelves that housed the books and were covered in memorabilia, all lit by the warm lights that hung from the ceiling. 

“If you’ll let me, I’d love to work here…” she said bashfully, tugging on her sleeves. Ms. Cardenas smiled warmly at her and moved to pull a few sheets of paper from a folder that was tucked under the counter.

“Just fill this out and then I’ll show you the upstairs,” she said, handing the papers over before giving her a pen from an empty coffee mug.

Zanna nodded distractedly, already filling out the first few items on the papers before Ms. Cardenas’s words registered. “Upstairs?” she asked dumbly.

Ms. Cardenas laughed airily as she pushed a cart labeled ‘New Arrivals’ towards the back area of the store. “Did I not mention that? The top floor needs to be renovated but the second floor is a functional apartment. It comes with the job. Don’t you worry about that though, just finish filling out that paperwork.

Zanna blinked dumbly at the older woman’s retreating back in sheer awe of her. She turned her attention back towards filling out everything she could on the paperwork and was just carefully looping her name on the line labeled signature when Ms. Cardenas returned, the cart now empty.

“You’re all finished? Good, now let me just put the lunch sign up on the door and I’ll show you the upstairs. Then if you want you can start moving in your stuff and hopefully we can have you running the store in a day or two.” She said cheerfully, bustling Zanna over to a staircase behind a heavy locked door. 

“A day or two?” Zanna sputtered. Everything was moving very quickly and the thought of running someone else’s store caused anxiety to swell her stomach and chest. Before Ms. Cardenas could reply a few book from one of the shelves behind them tumbled off with a large clattering sound. 

For a second neither of them spoke, Zannas eyes darting back and forth from the pile to Ms. Cardenas worried that she would her retract her offer. Ms. Cardenas however, was hardly phased, and was already bending over to grab at the pile.

“This actually reminds me. The angel clan rarely comes down here but the librarian is here a lot and has a tendency to get rather worked up by what she reads, she’ll help clean them up but sometimes her wings knock off books. Just make sure she puts the claws away first,” she laughed lightly before noticing Zannas stricken look. “What? You didn’t think I’d be scared off by a little magic did you? I’ve seen much worse in my time here. Now why don’t you get over here and help me re shelve these. My knees aren’t what they used to be. 

Zanna moves numbly over and helped pick up the books and began to place them in order on the shelf as Ms. Cardenas prattled on next to her about some story from the last time a human managed to earn three wishes from elder of the local djinn family.

“… and I swear the poor boy couldn’t get rid of the frogs for weeks. It was even worse for those with better senses. Kid was like catnip,” she finished with a chuckle. When she noticed that Zanna was sliding the last book into place she led her upstairs to another door that she opened with a large antique looking key that she promised to hand over before she left. 

She led Zanna inside and she found herself pleasantly surprised by the amount of room in the apartment. The ceiling was slightly vaulted and that combined with the light hardwood floors and large windows that faced the street, the whole living area seemed much larger than possible. She followed along quietly as Ms. Cardenas showed her to the kitchen that was only separated from the living room by a dark breakfast bar that looked new; and she listened to Ms. Cardenas talk about how proud she was of her son for renovating the entire place for her. She showed her the bathrooms and the two bedrooms, one of which had an adjoining bathroom, before showing her the smaller things like where the linens closest were and the thermostat. Zanna nodded along, in a fog, because now she had to think about things like linen closets. That was such an adult worry that it was a bit shocking.

“… And that’s everything. Here’s your key and ill print out a lease for you to sign when you get your stuff all settled in. If you need any help getting your stuff up here let me know and I’ll get the Anderson boy to help out, kid’s always looking to use that strength of his to good use.” Ms. Cardenas said, letting out a laugh that was half huff before pressing a key into Zanna’s hand and closing the door behind her as she left; the closing door echoing around the empty apartment.

Zanna stood frozen in the center of the room for a moment, just staring at the key in her hand. So much in her life had changed just in the last twenty four hours and most of it was for the better. And while she knew that not everyone in the town would be as friendly as the two residents she had met she had a feeling she was finally finding where she belonged.

She looked out the windows facing the street, making note of the empty window boxes that could hold plants, and observed the bustling street below her, people going both directions throughout their lives. She took in a deep breath, noting the faint aroma wafting over from the bakery next door, and rolled back her shoulders before turning to face the door. 

She made her way downstairs and busted through the lease paperwork before she could lose her confidence. Ms. Cardenas seemed to notice and watched her with an amused look on her face, one eyebrow raised daringly as Zanna made her way out to her car to move it closer to the store so she could unpack her stuff quicker. 

‘Not that it could be much quicker’ she noted wryly pulling the older wooden suitcase out of her trunk. Aside from her car everything she owned was in her suitcase. She made her way through the store, Ms. Cardenas luckily too busy showing a book to an older gentleman with pink tinged skin and small horns sticking out of his head. She dragged the suitcase upstairs, wincing every time it swung into her legs, and let it sit in the middle of the living room. 

She looked around while letting out a deep breath. Today was the first day of the rest of her life.


	3. Forging Amethyst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two Chapters? In one day? Amazing but please don't expect it.

Forging Amethyst 

Standing in the center of the bookstore, keys in hand and overwhelming silence in the air, Zanna reflected over the last few days of her life. The biggest event surprisingly wasn’t her discovery of her magic or the little control over it that she had managed to gain (no more accidental fires and she only knocked things over when she was extremely scared or angry) but rather that she had found an apartment and a job running a bookstore. And that the owner had actually managed to teach her how to run the store over the course of a few days; how order new books, how to open and close, when to pay the stores utilities, how to balance the books and deposit the weekly cash. But she still found herself shocked when Ms. Cardenas pressed the keys to the store into her hand this morning before wishing her luck and climbing into her moving truck. 

She moved robotically through the motions of opening the store; turning on the register, opening the blinds for the display window, moving the chairs for in store reading back into place. When she finally reached over to flick on the open neon sign in the door she felt a bit more awake, despite it being almost eight in the morning. 

Zanna took her place behind the counter and stared at the front door raptly but as several minutes passed she realized she could relax a bit since this was a slower time of day. She leaned back in the comfortable leather chair and let her mind drift to the home she was still building in the apartment upstairs. She wasn’t particularly fond of traditional layouts of houses and since she had no furniture to begin with, she wasn’t in a rush to fill it. Instead she decided to focus on finding things that comforted her, she wanted her home to be a place she could feel warm about coming home to at the end of the day. 

So far she managed to find a fairly good mattress for cheap and not a second hand one, thanks to Ms. Cardenas’s explicit warnings about bedbugs. She had bought a sheet set and found a blanket at the local thrift store that was her favorite thing so far. It was soft and a woolen and warm and had a large lighthouse printed on it and she loved to curl up under it with the stuffed bear she had also found. It was kind of ugly with different size buttons for eyes and a garish yellow and orange patterned bowtie around its neck. She loved it immediately, pack bonding she assumed, and even hid it under the counter for her first day at work. She hadn’t gathered much kitchenware except for a collection of various mugs and single plate, bowl, and utensil set. Other than that the only decorations in the house where the cactus shaped coat holders she had found and immediately installed, and the large stack of books in the corner of her room. 

Zanna was broken out of her drifting thoughts by the ringing of the bell above the door. She straightened up before saying “Welcome to Coldbridge Classics, can I help you find anything today?” with the cheeriest voice she could muster. The older man who had entered just stared at her, amused, and with a start she recognized him from her first day in town as the man with the old fashioned pipe that blew animated smoke. 

“So Lucinda finally retired? Everyone thought she’d be in here ‘til the day she died, trying to mother hen everyone who walked through the door,” he croaked with a hoarse laugh before drawing a deep pull from his pipe. She took notice of the old fashioned suit that he wore, including tie and hat over his balding head. When he exhaled the smoke took the form of a romping bear that dissipated after running into the door behind his form.

At her shocked look he let out another hoarse chuckle “I thought I sensed some gift from you but you must be new to it,” at the curious look on her face he continued “I happen to be quite a bit older than I appear young lady, my kind tend to live fairly long. Djinn that is.”

“Djinn?” she breathed softly, after finding her voice, “Like from Tales of the Arabian Nights?”

At this the older man looked mildly impressed, “Most people usually reference that damn Aladdin movie before the classics. Damn Walt Disney. But yes, like from Tales of the Arabian Nights. I do encourage you to never reference a djinn as a ‘genie’ we tend not to take it very well. Just a tip,” he smiled at her, his dark eyes crinkling a bit.

Zanna opened her mouth a bit dumbly before remembering she was supposed to be helping him, “Is there something I can help you find?” she asked hesitantly.

He removed his hat with one hand before placing it on the counter next to her, “As it happens there is. Lucinda had ordered a special edition of a book about my people for me straight from my home of Cairo. It should have arrived by now and I was hoping to pick it up, it should be under Jabare Almasi,” he said kindly.

Zanna fumbled a bit the wooden crate that slid out from under the counter and housed their special orders. She sorted through the books until she found the one with his name labeled on it. She pulled it out from under the other books and stood to hand to the older man who was standing there patiently. 

“Here you go,” she said awkwardly. Luckily all ordered books were paid for in advanced so she didn’t have much else she could mess up. But as the moments passed and neither of the two of them moved or said anything she began to feel the familiar feeling of anxiety swell up in her chest. 

Mr. Almasi seemed to notice her discomfort and let out a low chuckle, “Miss Zanna do you know where djinn get there powers from?” at the slow shaking of her head he continued, “We are beings made of fire and that is where we draw our power from. This is not a offer I extend lightly but I’d like to extend to you a wish.”

Zanna’s eyebrows drew together in confusion as asked “Why? I haven’t done anything for you…” and after a pause she continued “And how do you know my name?” 

He laughed lightly, as if amused by her words, “You’ll understand in time but you’ve already done more for me and the people of this town than you even know. So? One wish in the entire world, what would you wish for?” by the end of his sentence his face had tempered into a serious and stoic mask, driving the reality of the gift she was just given to home.

She stared down at her hands distractedly as her mind wandered. What would she wish for? To be cured of her anxiety or depression? To be free of the weight on her chest? Or should she go the classic route of anyone who ever earned wishes in stories. She could gain riches, love, or fame. But right now none of those things would truly make her happy. 

Zanna swallowed past the lump in her throat before speaking, refusing to look the older man in the eye, “I- I wish that I wasn’t so lonely anymore.”

Mr. Almasi broke out in a wide smile before waving the pipe in his hands in a figure eight motion, “An excellent wish, a bit too easy to misinterpret, but not bad for a newbie. Your wish is my command,” he said grandly before striding over the bookshelf in the far back of the room. She watched as he perused the shelf lightly before pulling a book out by its spine. He strode back to the front desk confidently and dropped it in front of her.

“I believe based on what I knew about your mother and her magic this book will the best for you,” he said proudly before sobering slightly, “I truly hope you find what you’re looking for.” And with that he scooped his hat back on his head with one hand, tucked the book under one arm, and bustled out the door, leaving only the faint smell of smoke behind him.

Zanna looked down at the cover of the book dumbly, ‘The Kabbalah and the Protection of the Jewish People’. She rung the book up for herself after a pause before tucking it under the counter. She moved to help the next customer who came in and it didn’t occur to her until much later that he had never told her how he knew her name.

Hours later she found herself going through the process of shutting down the store for the day. Vacuum the floors, pull the front blinds down, shut down the register, turn off the lights; Zanna went through the process robotically, her thoughts still on the event of the morning. As she locked the front door and grabbed her belongings to move upstairs her fingers caught on a small piece of paper sticking out of the book that she hadn’t noticed earlier, a bookmark. Her head tilted to the side as she tried to get a better look at it, but without opening the book nothing could be discerned.

Once upstairs she sat in the middle of her bed and pulled the book into her lap quickly thumbing through it to the page marked by the bookmark. The bookmark, she discovered, was just average business card that read:  
Jabare Almasi  
Head of the Jann Tribe

And that was it. No number, address, or email. Zanna flipped over the card to see if there was anything marking the back but found the smooth paper free of any markings. She set the card on the small stack of books next to her bed for reading and moved on to the book. She traced the letters of the chapter title with one hand idly while her eyes roamed the page, soaking in the information. Golems. Created by rabbis to protect the community but too often had to be destroyed after becoming violent. As she read through the chapter an idea began to form in her mind, one that would bring her wish to fruition.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Gathering the supplies she needed took several days. Days of opening and running the bookstore, only to run out the minute she was able to go on lunch so she could grab as much clay as she could from the one art supply store in town. She spent her evenings studying not only the book that she was given, but several more on the subject of creation, golems, and Jewish mystic magic. And when she wasn’t doing either of those she was spending her time with Mr. Carson at his diner, who quickly took to her and always made sure he had a moment to tell her a bit about her mother or the town. He also introduced her to the midday and evening waitress, a college student a bit older than Zanna named Aliyah. She worked after her morning class and came in just in time to catch the lunch rush but always went out of her way to place an extra cherry on top of Zannas milkshake after she had made an offhand comment of how much she liked them. Short with dark hair that coiled tight to her head and brown eyes that crunched up every time she laughed, Aliyah was quick on her way to being one of the brightest spots of her day.

But finally she had all the supplies she needed. Roughly a hundred pounds of clay stored in a large plastic bin, a large sheet to cover her floor, another twenty pounds of clay to make slip to hold the pieces together, a large assortment of carving tools, a large chunk of amethyst, and dozens of printed out photos of people in various poses. It was rather lucky that Ms, Cardenas had included the apartment with the job because she spent most of what remained in her bank account on her supplies and she wouldn’t be getting paid for another few days.

The first few days were rather dull. She started to form the basic shape she wanted and determined the height and found herself having to go back more than once to even the proportions out and make sure the limbs were the same length. She placed the chunk of amethyst in the section of her chest that would serve as her heart. It took her an entire night to build the shoulder base and neck before attaching what would be carved into the head. During the day she continued in her job, hardly noticing the odd people who came in out of the store. The majority of them at least appeared human but every so often she’d find herself ringing up a book for a woman with a large pelt around her shoulder and smelt of the ocean or a young teenage boy with lavender skin who blushed a deep purple as she lead him to the romance section. 

But for the most part her days became a routine. In her mind she knew the path she continued on couldn’t continue, that it wasn’t healthy, and that at some point she would have to explore more of the town and branch out a bit. But she firmly decided to worry about that after the creation of her first project.

Soon she’s able to add the finer details that she had been picturing since the beginning. As she held herself as still as possible around the statue she moved her tool around the face, carving out the face she had built in her subconscious. She let her head tilt to the side and her eyelids drop as she lost herself in her work. High cheek bones that framed a strong jaw line, thicker eyebrows that arched as if she was permanently curious, a aquiline nose that tilted slightly upwards, and although the clay itself was mud brown she could picture the color of her eyes. Deep forest green with small flecks of gold. Her skin would be the color of bronze that shone as if it was polished when she was in the sunlight. 

The next night she managed to finish the details of the torso. The curve of her back, the dimples on her hips, the strength in her core. She even managed to keep her mind on her task as she carefully sculpted out her chest. The arms came next with defined biceps that protruded from strong shoulders and led to toned forearms. And lastly, almost two weeks after she had begun and after she had been in Coldbridge for almost a month, the legs that would carry her around. Muscled thighs and well formed calves that stood on steady feet. 

When she finally finished she let herself fall onto the floor, the sheet providing very little padding for her when she hit the ground, and leaned back on one hand as she gazed at the details with a speculative eye. No detail could go overlooked if this was to work properly. After a few moments of mentally comparing every part of the statue to her own body she let herself fall the rest of the way so she could lay in a starfish position on the floor, exhaustion of the last few weeks catching up to her. A small part of her mind told her she shouldn’t stay laying on the floor, as she would surely regret it in the morning, but before she could summon the energy to move herself to the shower and to bed her eyes drifted shut and she fell into a deep sleep.

That night she dreamed, something that was not uncommon for her, but had not happened since she arrived in Coldbridge. Many considered her lucky to have so many dreams but with her exceptional memory it seemed more like a curse; as if she had to live through every odd situation her mind could come up with. Tonight was no exception. She found herself sitting on a stiff brown leather seat in the front of a small metal bus that seemed to jump straight out of the 1970’s. The bus driver sat a few feet away from her and stopped every so often to let people on the bus. 

Immediately Zanna knew she was in a dream and decided to just sit through it. She let her head fall against the glass window and followed the green foliage that they passed with her eyes. She looked over to look at the next person getting on the bus and with a bit of interest noted that with every new person who climbed onto the bus they seemed to get a bit more distorted, as if she was forgetting what people looked like. 

She had just started to relax back into the uncomfortable seat when, with a jolt, she realized she recognized where she was, but distantly like it was on the edge of her brain and she couldn’t quite grab it. She fumbled out of her seat and made her way out of the bus as quick as she could; ignoring the bus driver yelling for her that it wasn’t her stop yet. She ran through the woods next to the road as quickly as she could, leaping over logs and tripping on roots although she never fell. When she looked up from the ground where she had almost tripped again she found herself on the edge of a pristine lime green lawn that stretched farther than any lawn she had ever seen before. At the far side of the lawn was a cherry red brick plantation style house. She felt a weight hanging by her side and looked down to find herself holding her suitcase that was almost certainly not there before.

Zanna found herself making her way across the lawn and before long found herself in front of the large dark oak doors. She didn’t even have to knock before the doors creaked open and she entered slowly. The calm didn’t last for long as she found herself suddenly being turned in every direction by figures with no faces as they took her luggage and directed her towards her room as if she was staying in a hotel. She opened the door to her room and found herself in a room made entirely of mirrors that reflected lights like the inside of a kaleidoscope. She bumped into edges and walls as she tried to make her way throughout the room but soon found herself falling out of the mirror and with a jot realized she was now just sitting on the floor of a regular room. She looked over at the bed next to her and saw a note sitting on the bedspread. She heaved herself up and began to read the note, only getting two lines in about turning the keys and remembering the tattoos.

She heard a large bang behind her and when she turned she found that the door into the hallway had smacked open against the wall. But when she peaked through it she didn’t see the hallway she was in just a few minutes ago. Instead she found herself looking to a large room that looked like it came out of an old painting where the stairs come out of the ceiling and go sideways and there are windows on the floors. It seemed as if there was a party in swing as the entire room and all the platforms were crowded with people wearing fine suits with long coattails and large ball gowns that pooled out from their waists. Every face was covered with an old fashioned porcelain mask in various kinds of decoration so they only thing of the head that could be seen was their hair. But as she watched she noticed that they moved far too robotically, jerking their limbs as they made their way across the various obstacles in the room as if it was no problem. 

It may have been a deep gut instinct but Zanna knew that they only way she’d be allowed to pass through was if she pretended to be one of them. She rolled her shoulders back and cooled the expression on her face into a mimicry of the masks they wore and slowly made her way into the gala, making sure to move as they did. As she made her way up a staircase that turned sideways halfway up she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. One of the women from the ball, but instead of moving around with the rest of them she was sitting on metallic looking bench, half slumped over as if powered down. What seemed the strangest was that unlike the others her mask was completely blank. 

Intrigued, Zanna made her way towards her, taking care to avoid the others who seemed to be patrolling the area around the woman. Soon she found herself next to her, and after ducking under a staircase to avoid one of the gala guests she examined the area around the base of the bench, she ran her fingers over the machinery and found something protruding from it. After closer inspection she realized it was a key and after a quick pause she turned it. For a moment nothing happened but after a few moments she heard a low whirl and humming sound come from the bench and then with a high pitched creak the woman began to move in a jerky fashion as she slowly stood up from the bench. Zanna watched as her mask slowly began to fill with dark swirls that curled around her eyes and cheekbones and in the half second that she moved her head just so she caught a glimpse at her neck she made out the outline of a dark colored bird, a raven.

The mechanic woman ignored her and moved to join the party slowly. After a moment’s pause Zanna realized that this was what she was there to do. She made her way throughout the ballroom and found the second, a man in a dark purple waist coat with a similar blank mask. She didn’t hesitate this time, turning the key immediately, and watched as he slowly came to life, his mask filling with shades of violet and lavender that curved in elegant music notes around his face. Like the woman he had a tattoo on his neck, this one of a bull.

The last mechanical man was near impossible to find, so heavily covered by other guests that she had to push her way through the crowd, afraid they would recognize her as not one of them. But she finally was able to turn his key watching as his mask filled with a diamond pattern in jade and when he turned his head just so she could see the head of a serpent curling around his neck. She backed away from him slowly, sure her job was done. But in her haste to back away she bumped into another guest and simultaneously she found herself under the heavy gaze of every single person in the room. She straightened her back up and tried to fall into character again but it seemed this time they weren’t falling for it. She started to back away slowly as they advanced on her one step at a time. But before she could turn and try to make a run for it she stumbled over something on the floor and fell, back first into the room she had been in earlier. The door in front of her slammed shut in front of the guests who were still advancing amorously.

Zanna sat on the floor, breathing hard, as she processed what just happened. She glanced over at the bed to see that the note from earlier had disappeared. It had said that she would need to remember the tattoos.

“A raven, a bull, and a serpent,” she said, thinking out loud. As soon as she finished the last word the walls around her began to shake. As the scene around her began to crumble and she fell the black in the edges of her vision spread and she lost herself into the darkness.

She awoke laying the same position she had fallen asleep, all the muscles in her shoulders and back screaming as she rolled over to push herself onto her knees. She stood up on unsteady feet and looked at her statue in the cold light of the dawn peaking through her window. With shadows creating contrasts and highlights on her skin the woman before her looked as if she could breathe into life at any moment. 

She patted off the dried clay that had stuck to her skin and fingered the thin material of the floral skirt around her waist as she played the events of her dream over again in her mind. She shook her head and moved towards the master bedrooms pulling her clothes off as she went, determined to take a shower and put the whole thing out of her mind before opening the bookstore.

That day seemed to go slower than the others, although it could be that for the first time her mind wasn’t with the completed project in her living room. She finally was introduced to the librarian with wings that Ms. Cardenas had mentioned to her, a woman named Safiya who was in her mid 20’s and by her purchases had a strong love for classic literature and puzzles. Halfway through an explanation of the underlying themes of homosexuality in the Great Gatsby Safiya must have noticed her staring at the garnet-scarlet wings behind her because she cut herself off.

“I’m not an angel,” she said bluntly. At the no doubt wide eyed look on Zannas face she continued, “That’s what people always assume when they see my wings.” She fiddled with the odd shaped pin in her hijab, “My family is from Egypt, I’m a Sphinx.” 

“Oh. Wow,” as lame as it may have sounded Zanna truly didn’t have any other words as her mind tried to remember any information about Sphinxes. “That’s… really awesome,” she said, awed.

At that Safiya seemed shocked, “Really? That’s not usually the response I get…” she trailed off.

 

Zanna’s eyebrows furrowed, “What do people usually say?” she asked curiously.

Safiya rolled her eyes and folded her arms in front of her defensively, “Something along the lines of Coldbridge being for creatures that founded the town and that the town shouldn’t just accept every stray that crossed the town lines.”

At that Zanna raised an eyebrow, it would make sense that bigotry would be found in every species. “Well I don’t know about that but you seem really nice and you take really good care of the library,” she said truthfully. She had heard from Aliyah about what the library had been like before Safiya had taken over and it was far better now. The entire building had been renovated so people would actually want to spend time in the building, new books of interest had been added into the collections, and she had even started various clubs and programs that were a big hit like a local book club and a tutoring program for kids at the high school. 

Safiya smiled, revealing sharp canines that she hadn’t noticed earlier, “Thanks, the library is my baby. We’re actually looking for someone to help out reading to the preschoolers who come in on Fridays if you’re interested?” she said hopefully.

Under the hopeful gaze of her puppy dog eyes Zanna found herself unable to refuse and was given a piece of paper with the date, time, and location of where to be as well as the title of the book she was going to read to the kids. As Safiya left the bookstore she shook herself from her shock as she tried to process what had just happened.

After that the day passed much quicker and that night Zanna found herself standing in front of her statue with the printed out copy of the book of Creation that she would need to read from to bring her golem to life. It occurred to her as she was opening the book that she could have just adopted a pet if she was truly lonely… but she had already done of the work needed so she might as well go through with it.

Zanna cleared her throat and gripped the star of David around her throat before beginning, hoping the English version would work as her Hebrew pronunciation was awful. “With 32 mystical paths of Wisdom, engraved Yah, the Lord of Hosts…”

Over an hour later she continued towards the end, ignoring the burning in the base of her throat as her voice began to choke and scratch, “…He directed them with the twelve constellations.” She looked up expecting to see anything happening. But nothing. No bright flash of light, no earth moving, nothing. 

Zanna dropped the papers to the floor in frustration and ran her hands through her hair, tugging at the strands roughly. She felt tears burn at the corners of her eyes but refused to let them fall. She felt the familiar nauseous feeling swirl in her stomach and she berated herself. How could she think she could do anything like that? And who even has to create a friend for themselves? God, how pathetic was she?

She turned to face the statue, determined to take out her anger on her failed project but faltered as she noticed a change in the statue. Where before the statues skin was the color of dried clay it was now slowing smoothening out into dark olive skin. She watched as the clay transformed into skin, moving up her body. By the time it reached her face, turning the clay around her head into thick long flowing dark hair, Zanna was wiping away the redness from her face. 

The young woman’s eyes flew open as she sucked in air deeply. Zanna watched as she swayed, unsteady on her feet like a newborn horse, before falling on her behind, her legs angled just right in front on her to hide her privates. She watched as the young woman reached up to feel at her hair in shock. 

“Who-who are you?” she asked, her voice low and rough although the words themselves were full of innocent confusion. With a jolt of shock she looked up at Zanna, “Who am I?”

Zanna grabbed the dirty sheet and wrapped it around her shoulders for her before sitting down in front of her, “My name is Zanna and I- I created you I suppose…” she trailed off. At the confused look on her face she told the whole story. By the end the young woman looked down at her self as if realizing she didn’t truly know herself.

“So… I’m no one. What do I do?” she asked, her words tinged with fear.

Zanna placed her hand over hers, “You’re not no one, you are whoever you decide to be. And I’ll help you figure out who that it is. You can try all sorts of new things and figure out what you like. Is there anything that sticks out in your mind as a part of you?” she asked.

The young woman shook her head, “Not really. I feel oddly protective over you but I think that’s my nature.” 

Zanna nodded, “Makes sense. Okay, so I guess first things first is to find you some clothes. Then we’ll start on figuring out what you like,” she started to stand up only to have her hand tugged by the young woman.

“Do I…Did you give me a name?” she asked quietly, not looking Zanna in the eye, as if afraid of the answer.

Zanna stares down at her for a second, the name she had been rolling around in her head ever since she had chosen the chunk of the amethyst for her heart coming to mind. “Yeah, yeah I did,” she said softly.

Her head jerked up to stare at her with wide eyes. “Really? What is it?” she asked desperation in her voice. It made sense; names were a fundamental definition of who you are.

“Achlama. I named you Achlama,” she said, watching the small smile play spread across her face.

Achlama laughed a bit before drawing herself to her feet, “Achlama huh? I like that. Alright Zanna, show me these clothes I must wear,” she said with a wide toothy smile before making her way over to the doors in the hallway. 

Zanna followed her, a small smile tugging on the corner of her lips as a light feeling swelled in her chest at the warmth of having someone who already seemed to settle into her life so easily.

Halfway across the town Jabare Almasi lifted his eyes from the book he read in front of a roaring fireplace. His wish had just been completed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any questions at all post them and I will respond to all of them because I crave approval for my work.


	4. The Fountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. Enjoy my poor introverted OC being dragged around by things she diD NOT SIGN UP FOR.

At four days old Achlama was, to put it lightly, a gleeful terror. Granted Zanna rarely felt lonely anymore but to be fair it is rather hard to be lonely at six in the morning when you’re dragged from your warm bed to do yoga in the town’s only park because ‘the sun looks so beautiful and we can stretch and greet the day while feeling the morning dew on our skin’. She couldn’t say she regretted creating her though as she found herself pushing herself outside of her comfort zone more and more but never to the point where it’s uncomfortable.

A small side effect that Zanna hadn’t read about or even considered was, despite how much of an individual Achlama was constantly proving to be everyday, the two of them were bonded through creation magic and shared little quirks. The way Achlama drank her tea, a little too strong with one large spoonful of honey, the way she scratched her hands through her hair absentmindly while working, and the loud emo punk music that spilled from the bathroom during bathing times. It was the smallest things that were reflected; the things you wouldn’t even notice unless you had the kind of anxiety that made you over narrate every small aspect of your life.

Zanna was broken out of her blank staring and deep musing by the clearing of a throat. She turned to the other side of the counter, already flushing to the roots of her hair, apologies on the tip of her tongue that faded when she saw who her customers was.

The three people standing in front her where fairly well known in the town, especially with small towns being the gossip hubs they are. And with Achlama dragging her all over town over the last few days she had heard more than a few interesting pieces of information about who the elderly folk of the town called “The Unholy Trio”. At the time she had reminded herself (and Achlama who was still fairly impressionable to those around her) to reserve judgment until they could meet them in person and form their own opinions of them.

Oliver Romano, a vampire (and not Twilight style vampire, much closer to the originally creature-of-the-darkness/Dracula style vampire), the oldest of three of the Romano vampire clan and also technically older than the country. Apparently a few years back he had met the other two, decided he no longer wanted to be the heir and declared when it came time he intended to pass it to his younger sister, dyed his hair lavender to anger his parents, and started dress like the kids who were obsessed with Twilight (that is to say, a lot of eyeliner and fishnets).

Dante Anderson, a werewolf, possibly the only werewolf who could claim to be close to a vampire. Apparently his family was the largest werewolf pack in North America and also dedicated to ‘traditions’. And when Dante, with his love of flower crown braiding, knitting, and other stereotypically feminine things, refused to give up who he was (Zanna suspected a heavy dose of support from his friends) he was shunned from the pack all ways but officially. Apparently soon after a fairly large blow on that subject there was an incident involving some heavy screamo music and a creative stencil piece of spray paint art. Since then the boy had been walking around like he had a overwhelming weight removed from his shoulders.

And Karter Gadner, a cambion. Zanna wasn’t exactly sure what a cambion was and listening to the townsfolk speak got her virtually nowhere so she was forced to resort to an extraordinary amount of research in the bookstore (only after getting about a dozen different conflicting tales from the internet). The people in town whispered abomination around them but the truth was far more ordinary. A cambion is the ‘unholy’ offspring of a succubus/incubus and a human. The steps for making sure a child like that could survive were…extensive to say the least; so their parents must have been quite dedicated to having a child. Honestly, other than being a rather clashing shade of pink, Zanna didn’t quite see the problem with them.

Zanna must have been drifting in thought again because she was brought back to the present with a very pointed cough. Her eyes flickered back up to them and glanced over them briefly before she managed to squeak out a, “C-Can I help you?”

Dante smiled warmly at her and she felt herself relax a bit, it was a very kind smile. The other two remained fairly stoic, Oliver flashing a quick glimpse of his fangs when his lips quirked in a smug smirk.

Karter stepped forward, rummaging through the pockets of their large canvas jacket roughly before finding the paper she was looking for and shoving it towards Zanna gruffly. Zanna looked down at the paper and read the name of the book and author scribbled in slanted script, ‘The Complexities of Pack Bonds and Psychological Webs’. She hummed lightly as she mentally reviewed the books in the supernatural section. She vaguely remembered seeing a few books of different pack bonds for weres and other creatures and lost in thought she started moving towards the shelf, barely aware of the three following her. She stopped in front of the correct shelf and trailed her finger along the spines of the books as she browsed them quickly, eyes flitting from title to title. With a small sound of triumph she found the books she was looking for and tugged it from the shelf before turning with a flourish to find the trio staring at her with varying levels of amusement.

She handed the book over, once again flushing deeply, “If you need any more books like that than the shelf her would have them,” she said awkwardly as she backed her way out of the aisle and back to the checkout desk. She could hear hushed murmurings of conversations coming from the corner she had left them in but couldn’t make out any words and didn’t want to risk getting any closer to investigate.

Several minutes later the three of them, now noticeably more relaxed, came to the checkout counter. She noticed with a small smile that they had chosen to get several more books, not just from the shelf she had shown them. There were a few old battered copies of classic novels usually only bought by reluctant high schoolers, several travel size classic bodice ripper romances, and a decent sized stack of comics from the rack of 90’s style comics they had displayed. She checked them out with a odd sense of happiness, glad they found something liked that wasn’t related to the supernatural.

After the trio left her day progressed in the same manner most of her work days did. A small rush of customers in the evening and then almost nothing until closing. Achlama showed up at the same time she had been for the last few days and curled up in a corner with whatever book she was currently reading until closing time and then the two of them went through the process of closing the store. While not an interesting process Zanna found it much more entertaining with company. Achlama had figured out the day before how her cell phone worked and had become obsessed with the quick availability of music. Since then almost every mundane task became a scene from a movie, score and dancing included.

Instead of going upstairs and falling on her mattress like she had planned after the two of them finished cleaning up she found herself being dragged out of the side door, literally dragged, by an overly excited Achlama who wanted to show her the best Egyptian food place she had found. At Zanna groans of planning on just ordering pizza Achlama patted her on the cheek with a tough of false pity before declaring she was going to experience true spices alongside her.

Their walk to the restaurant was cut short by the startling sounds of sirens that cut through the night air, break the calm aura the town produced. The two froze before turning to watch the police car speed by, lights flashing, as it turned towards in the direction of the park.

“We should check that out,” she found herself speaking without thinking. Achlama turned to face her, curiosity etched on her face but after a few seconds agreed.  
The two made their way to the park slowly, the sirens still filling the air, the peaceful atmosphere from before gone. The silence between them wasn’t awkward, more comfortable, as they turned onto the street that led to the park. The closer they got to the park Zanna found herself questioning why she felt so drawn to whatever commotion was going on.   
She had no time to figure out the answer before they arrived at scene, joining the crowd of people already gathering around the hastily put up police tape. Zanna pushed herself onto her toes to try to see over the crowd, but still found herself blocked. Achlama watched her with an amused huff before wading her way into the crowd, lightly shouldering aside the people in front of her to wedge herself in front of people. Zanna followed behind her, clinging to the back of her shirt and purposely ignoring the rude mumbles of the people shoved behind them.

Luckily with Achlama leading the two of them they made their way to the front of the crowd easily, though the sight that greeted her made her slightly regret it. In the dead center of the park was a large fountain called the Heart of Coldbridge that sported several statues of the founders of the town with their hands in a cupped position facing towards the center of the fountain as water poured from their hands. At the center of the fountain was a large obelisk made out of white granite, white granite that was currently being stained red as rivulets of blood flowed into the crimson water at the base. The cause for the discoloration was the body left chained and propped up in the middle of the fountain. To say the body was mutilated would be a generous understatement.

The man, and she was fairly sure the body was a he, had his chest cracked open and on display were the few organs left inside. His arms, besides being chained to the obelisk, were ripped into with…bite marks? And in several places small flashes of white bone peaked through. The legs, halfway under the fountain water, seemed to be in much the same shape. Zanna looked away in disgust, feeling the instinctive reaction of bile rise in her throat. Next to her Achlama watched the scene, a blank look on her usually joyous face.  
After a few moments Zanna spoke up, “What do you think happened?” she asked, trying to tear her eyes away from the scene in front of her.

After several moments with no reply Zanna looked over to find Achlama moving, not away from the crowd, but rather towards the still flashing lights of the police cruiser. Zanna swore under her breath and pushed her way through the mob as she followed Achlama. By the time she broke free of the pack of people Achlama was already speaking with one of the officers on scene.

Zanna had heard a bit about Deputy Maria Perez since her arrival in town. Her father was the sheriff about fifteen years ago and after his death six years ago she decided to follow in his footsteps and managed to become the youngest Deputy in the town’s history. She was also ridiculously fair and that had led to her being beloved by half of the town and despised by the other half. She had been turned by a rogue werewolf that had found its way into town when she was 12 and used her advanced strength and speed to keep the peace between all of the various supernaturals in the town. Her features were harder to make out in the dim light in the park but she had long dark hair pulled into a professional tight bun and sported her full Deputy uniform. Her usually relaxed features were drawn into a pinch at the sight of the fountain.

“…could have done this? You know?” Achlama was saying, a faux tone of casual worry in her voice.

“I understand ma’am and our officers are still combing the area but until they find anything, I really can’t tell you,” Deputy Perez said professionally although her tone held a note of warning.

Zanna approached the two, “Achlama! There you are! Don’t wander off, especially with what just happened,” she said, plastering a fake grin on her face as she tugged Achlama slightly away from the Deputy. Achlama tried to protest but Zanna elbowed her in the side to quiet her as she pulled her back towards the crowd.

When they were finally out of sight of the Deputy, Zanna turned to look Achlama in the eye, “Look, I don’t know what the hell that was, but you can’t just go up and start asking questions about a crime scene. If they find you suspicious and start investigating than they’ll find out at that you legally do not exist,” she whisper hissed.

Achlama looked unbothered by her tone, “I understand but you saw what that thing did to that poor man. I have to help find what did that to him and remove it from my town,” she said justly, sticking out her chin for emphasis.

Zanna rubbed her eyes as she swore again, next time she decided to create a being from nothing she wouldn’t make them so protective and righteous, “Alright. You want to find out what did that? So do I. But police officers usually don’t share their investigations. So whatever we discover we’ll have to find out on our own.”

At that Achlama looked pleased, agreeing instantly. Zanna pulled a piece of loose paper out of her purse and scribbled everything she had noticed about the scene:

-chained to the fountain

-bites taken out of him (animals?)

-organs missing

The list was almost depressingly short but it was a start. Appetites lost, the two of them made their way home for the night, this time the quiet of the small town seeming more foreboding and ominous than comforting.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The next morning came too soon. Zanna wished she could fall into a deep slumber and forget the sight she had seen the day before but her dreams, or rather nightmares, were full of flashing fangs and dripping blood. Achlama didn’t seem to have had the same problem, she noticed while watch Achlama twirl around the kitchen as she hummed while making her breakfast.

She was broken out of her thoughts of her nightmares by Achlama’s voice, “Hey check it out, I found the story about the dead guy on your phone.”

Zanna looked over to find her staring intently at the phone, a small furrow in her brow. With a sigh she took the phone from her hands and scanned the article. “Possible wild animal attack… locals suspect cults…James Morrow (38) leaves behind a young daughter…” Well, at least they could add the name of the victim to their list. She read the rest of the article as Achlama pattered around the kitchen and read that the funeral would be held in two days and would be open to the public.

Was it wrong to go to a man’s funeral to gain insight about his death? Probably. Would that stop them? Not likely.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Zanna had never liked the idea of death. Not the whole ‘closing your eyes and going to sleep but never waking up’. But rather she just couldn’t understand why someone would choose to be trapped in a tiny box for all eternity in the ground and the only thing to mark that you were even alive was a tiny headstone. Also funerals just seemed uncomfortable to her. People come and stare at your dead, dressed up body and then sob when you’re put in the ground. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she had never been into a cemetery for someone she cared about. Her father wouldn’t even tell her where she was buried.

This wouldn’t be an open casket funeral. This was a handful of business people in smart looking suits with blank looks on their face as they discreetly checked their watches, a man from the local church, and a little girl who refused to look away as they lowered the coffin in the ground, even when tears began to streak down her cheeks.

Zanna and Achlama stood slightly off to the side for the entire time throughout the slow lowering of the coffin into the ground. A few people spoke in short, halting sentences about Mr. Morrow and before long people were moving away from the grave. Before long her and Achlama were the only ones besides the little girl near the grave. Nearby a smartly dressed woman in a pencil shirt stood, watched the scene with an almost sympathetic expression on her face. Next to her stood the Sheriff, an older woman with dark hair shaved close to her skull and an almost permanent stoic face.

Achlama was saying something next to her but her focus was on the little girl in front of her. Maybe their situations weren’t exactly the same but the sight was enough to stir some long dormant feelings of nurturing in her. Not particularly in a motherly way but more in a big sister way. She knew what it was like to suddenly feel all alone even when there are a hundred people around you. And if she could maybe help spare someone else from growing up isolated like she did… how could she just walk away. For a second she felt a deep pang of insecurity. Was she capable of taking care of a child? She had just started to teach Achlama about the world and she had the benefit of being adult sized and strong enough to protect herself.

Maybe it was time to maybe see professional help. She was aware she had issues; you couldn’t survive through her cold childhood without some kind of emotional scars. And even if she couldn’t be there for this young girl perhaps she should be doing this for herself.

Achlamas hand on her arm brought her out of her thoughts, “Zanna? Are you okay?”

Zanna forced a smile on her face, “Yeah, yeah I’m okay. Just thinking about some stuff. I’m going to go talk to the Sheriff, you okay here?” At Achlamas nod she made her way over to where the two women still stood.

They eyed her warily as she approached, “Sheriff,” she greeted as politely as she could manage.

The Sheriff stared at her for a moment before something in her gaze soften, “I had heard that Leah Rosenwalds daughter had returned to Coldbridge. Your mother was a friend. You look just like her,” she said warmly.

Zanna laughed awkwardly, “Yeah I’ve gotten that a few times since I got her…” she trailed off awkwardly. Her eyes flickered to the woman standing next to the Sheriff.

“Ah, forgive my manners. Zanna, this is Bridget Raiden, she’s one of the social workers here in Coldbridge and was assigned Ciaras case,” the Sheriff seemed obviously strained throughout the introduction.

The woman stepped forward and stuck out her hand as she spoke, “Nice to meet you. I also host a host for a all of the normal people in this town, just in case you get tired of being surrounded by freaks all the time,” she whispered the last part as if it was a secret.

Zanna now understood the Sheriffs cold attitude towards the woman, “Yeah well, seeing as I’m one of those freaks it’s probably best if I don’t. Actually I was hoping to speak to both of you about Ciara.”

The Sheriff straightened up at the mention of the young girl but the social worker couldn’t look more disinterested, “And what about her?” replied the Sheriff.

Zanna thought her words out carefully before speaking slowly, “I think she might a magic user like me,” this wasn’t even a lie, she had sensed the girls power during the funeral, “And considering we have…similar backgrounds, I thought I might be able to help her during this time.”

The Sheriffs face softened slightly, “As sweet of an idea that is, I don’t think you’re qualified to be a foster parent, is she Ms. Raiden?”

The woman was watching the two of them converse with a vague look of disgust on her face that pinched her features, “Normally no, but it is hard finding a foster parent for someone like her. As long as you have the space and money as well as proof of address and of a job I suppose we can get the paperwork started. You’d have to be inspected twice a month to prove you can provide for her and she’ll need to be taken to a state appointed therapist,” the way she spoke was without inflection, as if she was reading off a recipe instead of deciding the fate of child. Zanna felt a hot curl of rage twist in her chest as the disinterest.

Zanna pasted on a fake smile, “I can do that. I’ll send all of my information to your office as soon as possible.”

Ms. Raiden was already typing away on her phone as she spoke in a bored tone, “Alright, if you can have the paper work sent over by three that’d be preferable and I can bring her around eight. I’d rather not have to find a place to house her for one night.” And at that she walked off in the direction of Ciara, who still stood in front of her father’s grave.


	5. The Voice in the Trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zanna and Achlama's home is finally being inspected.... and some other stuff happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of love Deputy Perez? I feel like I don't get to write about her enough. Anywho, sorry for such the late update. Theres a ton of reasons and none of them are good.

The Voice In The Trees

Two nights after taking in the young girl- Ciara- Zanna awoke to screaming. It happened the night before as well so she wasn’t as thrown off as she had been the day before. The conversation that went about when they brought her home the day before hadn’t exactly gone the way she had wanted.

Achlama opened the door ahead of the young girl and let her into the apartment, Zanna following behind her carrying Ciara’s luggage. Zanna immediately went to the last spare room and placed the bag in there. Luckily Ms. Cardenas had left an old metal bed frame and it wasn’t too hard to find a mattress in the right size. They’d have to go out and get a few more pieces of furniture but it’d do for now. 

When she came out Achlama was showing a silent Ciara around the apartment, “-And this is the kitchen. It’s a bit bare right now but that’s just because Zanna lives off of sandwiches and food from the diner. But we’ll go grocery shopping so we have more stuff for you. I don’t really know much about humans your age but I saw kids at the park eating hot dogs so maybe we can get some of those?” 

Ciara followed her silently, eyes trained on the ground as if she wasn’t fully aware of what was going on around her. Achlama met Zannas eyes and widened hers as if to ask for help.

Zanna cleared her throat, “Hey Ciara?” she waited for the girl to turn around, “Why don’t you go unpack a bit and then we’ll head over to the diner nearby okay?” 

Ciara nodded, still silent, before moving towards the room, the door clicking behind her sounded deafening in the quiet apartment.

She had spoken a bit since then, mostly ‘yes’ and ‘no, thank you’. Zanna wasn’t a child psychology expert but she assumed some of this must be normal for a child who just lost their only parent. Her father might not have been good or particularly active in her life but at least someone was there and she wasn’t just suddenly under the care of strangers. Not for the first time in the last 48 hours Zanna wondered if she was making the right decision about taking this girl in. Yes, she felt a bond with her. But was she the best person to help this little girl while she was grieving?

Zanna shook away the negative thoughts plaguing her brain as she moved closer to Ciara’s door. Like the night before she knocked gently on the door. The screaming was always short but enough to wake her. Unlike the night before she heard a soft “come in,” before the sounds off a choked off sob.

She opened the door quietly, not wanted to scare the fragile trust between her and the girl. The room looked much different than it had the day before. There was a large dark stained bookshelf that Achlama had brought home earlier that day (Achlama hefting the thing over her head like it was made of paper was a sight she would never forget), had a few knick knacks, toys, and books on it. There were even a few framed pictures of a couple, their bright smiles sticking out to her. Ciara clearly took after her mother, dark hair even braided in a similar way.

Ciara herself was sitting in the middle of the bed, arms curled around her knees that were pressed against her chest. Zanna couldn’t see her face but she knew if she could there would be tear tracks going down her face. Zanna sits on the edge of the bed, unsure how to proceed. 

Before long Ciara spoke up, young voice cracking every few words, “My daddy, he used to- he used to take me to the park,” she paused to rub at her nose and eyes, “He said we were special. That there were no other natural tree witches in town, they all had to learn…” she trailed off.

For a moment Zanna was confused. Tree witches. And then it hit her, she had been reading a book about 3rd century Celtic history and it had mentioned druidic magic and that they would often commute with oak trees. 

“Daddy said I was special. Because I could see what kind of person someone was. Through their auras,” she pronounced the word carefully, as if she was still learning it.

Then Ciaras eyes starting filling with tears, “But now they’re all scared and angry and they won’t stop screaming and-,” she broke off with a frustrated sob as she clutched at her face.

Zanna hesitantly rested a hand on Ciaras back as she sobbed, “Ciara?” she asked gently, “Who’s screaming?”

Ciara took a shuddering breath, “The trees!” she sobbed, “The monster killed my daddy and it’s hiding in the woods and the trees hate it! It smells like death and even though they’re trees and hate it all of them want fire to make sure it goes away and everything is just-so red,” she exclaims.

At that Ciara let herself lean fully into Zannas side and buried her face into her shoulder. Zanna froze for a second, unsure how to react. She hesitantly rubbed Ciaras back as she sobbed. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Achlama leaning against the door frame. They shared a look between them. Whatever had killed Ciaras father was a much bigger problem than they had thought. They might need some help.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………

A week later they had almost fallen into a routine. Adjusting to a young child in the house when she herself was barely out of childhood was a… adjustment to say the least. Achlama took to it with glee, taking Ciara down to show her the bookstore and walking around town. Knowing that soon they would be inspected by the CPS agent and the Deputy they had gone ahead and bought the things that seemed necessary for a child to live in the house. A couch, an old cube television, a dresser, and groceries. That was an experience.

Growing up Zanna had lived on food she could make in a microwave, maybe not the healthiest, but better than nothing; somehow that seemed like a bad way to actually raise a child. So she bought a few cookbooks from downstairs and gave them to Achlama, who had been mentioning wanting to cook. It surprised her to learn that not only did Achlama enjoy cooking but she was good at it. One ridiculously expensive grocery trip later and they had a fridge full of fruits, vegetables, meats, and a rack full of spices she couldn’t pronounce. 

Over all they were doing well, or so Zanna thought. Until another obstacle presented itself- schooling. Somehow it had completely slipped her mind that an almost eight year old girl would be attending school. The person who brought it up was Deputy Perez.

The day of the first inspection brought a small amount of frenzy to the usually quiet household. Floors were swept, windows were wiped, Achlama’s odd collection of weaponry was hidden, and any proof of ‘witchcraft’ was hidden. Just to be sure.

So when there was a knock at the door, both Zanna and Achlama were more than a little frazzled. Ms. Raiden looked much the same way that she did the week earlier, pinched and disgusted as if just walking into the building caused her physical harm. 

Followed behind her with an apologetic look on her face for the other woman was Deputy Perez. The two made their way into the apartment with very little greetings and Ms. Raiden immediately set out to inspect the house. Achlama followed her around answering any questions she may have had. Yes this was their permanent residence, yes Ciara had her own bedroom, and yes she could be shown the kitchen. 

Deputy Perez had sat down with Ciara on the couch and was attempting to engage her in conversation. Over the last week they had managed to coax her out of her shell a bit more, enough to get a full sentence every now and then, but under the kind yet analytical gaze of Deputy Perez she had retreated into herself and trained her eyes on her hands in her lap and barely spoken a word.

After a few minutes of attempted conversation Deputy Perez turned to face Zanna, “Have you given any thought to when she’ll be going back to school?” she asked casually.

That’s when it hit her. School. It was Friday now so… “We were thinking she could go back on Monday?” she said, aware how uncertain her voice sounded.

Deputy Perez’s gaze soften, probably realizing when it came to some things there would need to be a learning curve, “In light of her…situation, the school let her take a week so she won’t be behind. You’ll probably need to fill out some emergency information in the office when you drop her off.”

Zanna took a steadying breath and nodded, mind racing a million miles a minute on all the things she’d need to get for Ciara for school. What worried her most was how she was going to pay for it. Ms. Cardenas was more than generous when she included the apartment with the job but after buying furniture and groceries…she was going to be stretched a bit thin until the next pay day. 

She forced a smile on her face, “No problem. We’ll make sure she’s there bright and early on Monday morning.”

As the two exchanged friendly, if a bit shakey smiles, Achlama and Ms. Raiden walked back into the room. Achlama wore a smug look of accomplishment on her face while Raiden just looked vaguely displeased, as if she was hoping to find something wrong with the apartment. Zanna found flaws in her logic. This woman clearly didn’t want to go through the hassle of doing her job when it came to finding a home for Ciara but seemed eager to find flaws in her current home. 

Achlama held the door open for the two as they finished their inspection and said their goodbyes. Raiden strode out immediately, not bothering to throw out more than a hasty goodbye as she nearly fled down the stairs. However, the Deputy took her time.

Zanna considered herself a strong person but even she knew where her weaknesses were. And other incredibly strong and capable women who have their ducks in a row? That was all of her weaknesses rolled into one. So as Deputy Perez stood in the doorway of their apartment, shadows highlighting her high angular cheekbones and dark eyes and thumbs tucked into her waistband, an action that emphasized the piece she wore on her hip; Zanna felt more than a little intimidated.

A sudden warmth at her back reminded her that she wasn’t alone. She had created Achlama to be her closest companion and the strength in her weakness. The thought emboldened her and she raised her chin a bit in defiance. She was good for Ciara, she knew it, and she could prove it. After a beat something in the Deputy’s rough exterior softened and Zanna spotted a small quirk of her lips.

Finally the deputy spoke, “You’re doing good for her. It’s…hard to lose a parent so young. But having people willing to be there for you but not pity you? That’s hard to find. It’s my opinion that unless a relative steps forward Ciara should remain in your care and I’ll let the Sheriff know,” the Deputy made a move towards the door before turning back, “If you need any help or just to talk, my door is always open,” and with that the young woman disappeared down the stairs.

Almost instantaneously the atmosphere of the room relaxed noticeably. Zanna hadn’t noticed but while all three of them had been on edge it had seemed like the building itself was responding to their nerves and was shaking with anticipation. Zanna looked towards the kitchen where Achlama had retreated to burn make lunch, Ciara following behind her with a exasperated but fond look on her face.

Yeah, they were doing fine.


	6. Dangling Off The Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It took 8 months for me to get the will to write this chapter and three days to actually write it. Yayyy procrastination.

Zanna had never thought of herself as a motherly person. She had no one to compare herself to and the only other parental figure she had was...less than ideal. So when it came to Ciara she was mostly winging it and treating her the way she had always wanted to be treated. Soft but with a deal of respect and understanding. 

       The only thing was, Ciara was grieving. She rarely smiled and was constantly plagued by nightmares. So it was hard to tell if the way Zanna was handling her was actually helping or if it was just making things worse. Achlama was constantly reassuring her that she was good for the child and that things were going smoothly and yet she had her doubts.

        The biggest doubt being the first day of school after Ciaras break. They woke up on time, double checked to make sure they had all the right information and paperwork, and even ate a healthy breakfast (It was oatmeal, the only thing Zanna could confidently make). But sometime during this Ciara' s shoe had come off and slid somewhere and it took them almost twenty minutes to find it.

         It was under the bathroom sink somehow. Because why not.

         By the time Zanna managed to wrangle Ciara and Achlama out of the house they were almost late. They slid into the principles office just on time and gave a brief but soft goodbye to Ciara while Achlama started filling out the emergency paperwork. Luckily in a town this odd, it wasn't uncommon for people who weren't direct family members to be listed as the emergency contact. 

         Zanna listened to the nice older lady behind the front desk chatter on about how they have to redo their entire system once werewolf packs started sending their children to public school and how it really was such a shame there was only one K-12 school in town because it meant that the entire pack attended one school and if one of you got a reputation, then all of you did. And "wasn't just a shame that the poor Anderson boy was practically disowned. No one could blame him for reacting how he did, half of his pack won't even meet his eyes in the hallway anymore". 

         Zanna hummed her agreements as she signed her name on the page that would allow Ciara to use the computers and other technology provided by the school. She had seen the boy in question around with his two friends more than a few times after their first trip to the bookstore. She liked that her store was somewhere where people could feel comfortable going. Especially kids in rough situations. 

         She finished up the paperwork, making sure to read each section carefully even as she listened to the lady behind the desk, Ms. Gregorz, rant about a series of bodice ripper style harlequin novels she had read. She assured the older woman that they had a large enough stock to keep her and her knitting circle (which really just sounded like an old lady gossip circle) entertained. 

         "So," Achlama said once they stepped back out into the fresh air outside the school, "That wasn't as bad as I had pictured. No epic battles, no mysterious questions, hell I didn't even have to maim anyone," she said cheerfully.

         Zanna looked over at Achlama suspiciously. The woman was wearing a comfortable looking athletic top and a pair of high waisted shorts, something that would presumably leave little room. But after the incident several days before hand where Achlama had almost taken a chainsaw to the bathroom sink... She had learned not to trust her first instincts. 

         "Where you planning on having to maim someone?" Zanna asked slowly, half fearing the answer.

          The broad smile and unrepentant shrug that Achlama gave her did little to ease her mind. Neither did her next remark.

          "I'm always prepared to maim somebody. I generally hope I don't have to but it's good to be prepared," she remarked casually, as if she was discussing some kind of demented boy scouts activity.

          "Oookay, well. Moving past that slightly disturbing piece of information that we WILL," she emphasized, "be revisiting at a later time. We need to open the store. And now that we have some time during the day we should look into the thing that killed Ciaras father."

          Achlama nodded as they turned the last corner to the main street the bookstore rested on. Zanna let the two inside the store, making sure to disable the alarm properly before moving behind the counter and pulling out the notebook she had written everything she could remember about the scene in. She had added in Ciaras episode about the trees screaming. She wasn't sure what to make of it but it was a clue.

          The bell above the door jingled, announcing a customer and Zanna hurried to slide the notebook under the counter. She looked up and was pleased to see the children she had been thinking of, 'The Unholy Trio' as they were called (small towns were so dramatic). The young vampire Oliver led the trio, dressed as impeccably as the other times she had seen him. The other two were in various states of disarray, Dante with grass stuck to his dreadlocks and Karter with a large tear in one sleeve of their hoodie and grass stains marring the rest of their clothing. 

          Despite the gruesome nature of the scene she had just been contemplating she couldn't sleep but smile at the teenagers as she greeted them.

          "I could be wrong here but I believe you three should be in school. Not playing full contact football or rolling down hills or whatever it was that you were doing," she called out teasingly.

          Dante grinned widely, "Jokes on you. We were being good samaritans. Ms. Dunlop had a mandrake problem and we offered to take care of it for her," he said proudly as he thumped Karter on the shoulder.

          Karter scolded and rubbed at the point of contact, "And by 'we' he means us two. Prince Dracula over here couldn't be bothered to get dirty," they said sarcastically.

          Oliver rolled his eyes, "Some of us have clothing that is no longer in production. Excuse me if I'd rather not have to go searching for how to get grass stains out of Scottish cotton."

          Zanna held out her hands placatingly as she laughed, "Alright, that's enough. You guys did a good thing. What brings you here and not to your homeroom?" she asked.

          The wide smile on Dantes face dimmed a bit, "We were hoping we could clean up in the bathroom? We won't leave a mess, we promise! But our place is out in the forest and it's kind of out of the way if we want to make any of our classes today..." he said sheepishly.

           Zanna took in the scruffy and dirty teenagers in front of her and for a moment she forgot that she was only two or three years older than two of them (who knows how old Oliver was). In that second she knew what it was like to be them. To not have a place to go that felt safe. Away from people like a neglectful pack, a haughty mother, cruel townspeople, or... an absent father. 

           Zanna reached behind the counter and pulled out her key ring and singled out the one for the apartment upstairs before calling out loudly for Achlama.

          When she rounded the corner, a large stack of darkly bound books in her hands, Zanna let her set them down on the counter before speaking; "Achlama could you take these kids upstairs and let them into the apartment. Show them were the bathroom is, help them get cleaned up, maybe get them a sandwich or something since I'm guessing none of you have had breakfast?" She took in their stunned looks, "I'm going to take that as a no. Just...help them?" She said awkwardly.

          It was like those words flipped a switch in Achlamas head. Within seconds she had herded all three of the teenagers to the base of the stairs and was leading them upstairs as she promised 'All the sandwiches they could eat'.

           Zanna laughed quietly at the scene before turning back to the counter. She had Achlama go through the mythology and history sections for any tales that might be similar to the murder or any similar deaths in history. The history angle might be a bust, she thought bitterly as she flipped through a large encyclopedia of North American serial killers, men were just too good at being monsters themselves without dragging in the creatures under the bed.

          She shoved the history books out of the way and started sorting through the mythology stack, which was somehow even larger. The problem was that Coldbridge seemed to be the only town for creatures in North America and was just as influenced by immigration throughout the 1800's and through Ellis Island as the rest of the country. There were dozens of cultures this beast could be a part of. Chinese from mass immigration during the times of the railroads, different African tribes from the slave trade, Irish or Welsh or Scottish or any of the dozens of European cultures that made their way through America. 

           No, she shook her head, she's giving this a bigger suspect pool than it probably has. Ciara had mentioned the trees which implied a nature aspect, which didn't narrow it down much, but since the body was displayed in the towns fountain it meant that the forest probably had something to do with the murderer. Like maybe where they were hiding out.

          Zanna was still contemplating the idea of just wandering the forest, hoping she could get her magic to work on whatever beast was in there, when she heard the apartment door open and close, quickly followed by the heavy footsteps of several teenagers. She looked up just in time to see Achlama lead the three teenagers back into the main aisle of the store. Oliver looked mostly the same but Dante and Karter had both cleaned up and Karter had borrowed one of Achlamas long sleeved shirts (that Zanna knew she'd never wear, it was like the girl was allergic to clothes). All three were in a much better mood than when they had gone upstairs.

           "I was starting to worry Achlama had accidently broken the faucet again," she called out with a teasing tilt to her voice. 

           Achlama threw her a half serious glare, "One time and now I never hear the end of it," she remarks bitterly, "You didn't even like the faucets in there," she said as she gestured upwards before moving to the back of the store.

           Zanna laughed and waved off the others continuous sputtering, "I'm kidding, I'm kidding! So are you guys okay to be going to back to school?" she asked, at seeing the trios faces fall in unison she amended her statement, "I mean, you guys are welcome here anytime. I just mean that this is technically truancy... and I have a minor in my custody that I don't have full custody of..." She said awkwardly.

           Dantes face split into his usual wide smile, "It's not a problem Ms. Zee. I don't want to miss fourth period anyways," he said with a small shrug, "If you ever need any help, just ask," he said. Despite the upbeat tone to his voice his eyes said that the statement was true. Somehow she had earned the loyalty of the towns rebellious teenagers.

          A lightbulb lit in her mind. They had mentioned their home being out too far in the forest to reach easily from town. Perhaps...

          "Actually," she said slowly as an idea formed in her head, "If you guys wouldn't mind hanging out here after school, I'd love if you could tell me a bit about the forest?" she asked earnestly.

          Oliver looked at the other two before nodding sharply, "I have to be at some special dinner party my mother has planned at 6:30 so the longer you need me to stay, the better," he said.

          The other two nodded their agreements before the three of them excused themselves to head to school. As the bell behind them jingled Zanna let out a small sigh of relief. At least she's getting somewhere...

           A large crash breaks her out of her thoughts, "Zee?! Do we have a basement? And unrelated to that question, how quickly do you think a broken toilet could flood a basement?"


End file.
